Some Walls Were Meant to Come Down
by UnabletoPROCESS
Summary: When Derek first met Stiles he crashed through the wall he had built around himself, literally...
1. Preschool

I have no excuse except that I'm a sadistic and slightly masochistic bastard... especially if I stick to my plan for this.  
Please note the rating might change.  
Also it's not beta read. So all mistakes are mine. Sorry.

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Preschool

Derek was already the strange, quiet kid and the first day of preschool hadn't even officially started yet. While all the other kids cried, clinging to their mothers and/or fathers, Derek let go of his mother's hand and walked right up to the teacher. He stared up at her expectantly until she awkwardly gestured to the door behind her. His face broke into an adorably toothy smile as he walked passed her in the direction of the door.

After a brief struggle getting the heavy door open, he turned and waved goodbye to his mother. She was smiling brightly as she waved back. He knew then that he would miss her all day but she was the one that had insisted he go to preschool so he would go and try to enjoy it like she had told him to.

He looked around at the other children. He knew they were just acting out because they would miss their mothers and fathers too. It didn't take long for him to notice several sets of eyes were locked on him. Some of the other parents, particularly the ones with screaming children, were watching him with strange or unreadable expressions on their faces. His smile faltered seeing so many people staring at him.

"Derek," his mother called softly, pulling his attention back to her. She gave him two thumbs up, still smiling, as she said "Have a good day, baby."

His smile came back in full and he waved again before he walked into the classroom. The door swung shut behind him, cutting him off from the teacher and the rest of the class. He was the only one in the room so he did what any kid his age would do when they had free run of a place, he ran around, touching things.

The room smelled mostly of cheap air fresheners that weren't that offensive to his sensitive nose but certain parts of the room, mainly over near the toy shelves, smelled of detergents and something harsher like bleach. He wrinkled his nose when he got too close to the gross smell. He wouldn't be playing with those toys.

After a few minutes, he found a crate of red cardboard bricks that didn't smell too offensive. He dragged the crate over to a secluded corner of the room where he would be out of the way and that bad smell was weakened.

By the time the teacher came in with the other kids he was safely hidden behind a high wall of the cardboard bricks. His small backpack was propped up to block the space between where he had run out of the bricks and the wall. Timber, his stuffed wolf, sat atop his backpack, keeping guard as Derek silently played with the little green and brown toy soldiers he had insisted his mother pack for him alongside Timber.

He tried his hardest to ignore the other children when his sensitive ears picked up on some of them whispering about him. Maybe building a wall around a space only big enough for one person hadn't been the best idea but he was scared of the other children. His older sister, Laura, had warned him that other kids could be mean for no reason, especially when they knew another kid was different.

He was different by birth but that wall really didn't help.

The last remaining brown soldier had just shot the last green soldier, ending the bloody battle between werewolves and hunters— werewolves victorious of course— when someone crashed through his wall. A boy landed in front of him in a pile of fake bricks and toy soldiers Derek hadn't been fast enough to save. Derek sat there, stunned, with the only 'living' werewolf soldier clutched tightly to his chest.

Instead of crying, the boy started laughing hysterically, pausing for only a few seconds to screech "Oh my god! Your face!"

Derek looked up from the laughing boy to the rest of his classmates. Everyone was staring straight at him, their eyes comically wide with… fright. The teacher turned to see what everyone was looking at, as soon as she saw him she dropped her coffee mug, both hands shooting up to cover her gaping mouth.

He didn't understand why everyone was staring at him like he was the weird one. It was obvious that the weird one was the other boy who was still lying in the pile of cardboard bricks, laughing so hard he was crying.

"D-Derek," The teacher said timidly, pulling his attention back to her from where it had drifted to the weird boy in front of him. "I need you to come here, sweetie."

Derek's stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots, he didn't like the way she or the rest of the class was staring at him. His chin started to tremble so he bit his lower lip to stop it. That was when he felt them. His pointy teeth were bigger than normal, long and sharp. He looked down at his hands and saw claws instead of fingernails. He had been so frightened that he had accidently shifted. This wasn't the first time it had happened to him but it was the first time around people other than his family.

He got up, grabbing Timber and his backpack. He was pretty sure he would be sent home for scaring the other kids. His mother would be so disappointed in him. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes as he walked over to his teacher. His classmates all scrambled to get away from him if he got too close to them. He stopped in front of the teacher, head down.

She knelt before him and tilted his chin up so he had to look at her face. A couple of tears escaped when he blinked but she wiped them away before the other kids could see him crying and tease him about it. She was smiling warmly at him when her pointy teeth became bigger and sharper and her dark eyes glowed golden. Derek sniffled but smiled. She was a werewolf too.

"Okay?" She asked softly, taking his hands and squeezing them reassuringly.

"Yes, ma'am," He said, smiling faintly when he realized he hadn't had to try to talk around a mouth full of fangs. His gaze shot down to their hands and sure enough he had fingernails instead of claws.

She stood up and ruffled his soft hair. He smiled brightly at her and was right about to thank her when she called out the weirdest name he'd ever heard.

"I told you to call me Stiles!" An annoyed boy's voice cried out.

Derek turned to see that weird name belonged to the boy who had ruined his wall. He was still sitting in the pile but had stopped laughing by now. He had a firm frown on his pale face as he stared at the teacher. A Batman action figure was peeking out from the pocket of his red hoodie.

The teacher let out an aggravated sigh and beckoned the boy over, "Stiles come here."

The boy, Stiles or whatever his real name was, got up and walked over to stand beside Derek, his attention was fixed on the teacher. "Yes?"

Derek looked him over and blinked when he saw his eyes, they were molten gold. For a moment he got his hopes up that there may be another werewolf, one his age, in class. However, the excitement faded when Stiles looked at him and the gold didn't fade, just shifted shades. His eyes were naturally golden. He was human. Derek frowned, disappointed.

"Apologize to Derek for knocking his wall down," The teacher ordered.

"I'm sorry I knocked down your wall," Stiles said grudgingly then looked up at the teacher who smiled down at the two. He waited for her to walk away before he turned back to Derek and continued in a hushed voice, "but it was stupid and you really shouldn't have built it in the first place. It was weird. You cut yourself off from the rest of us like a weirdo. You were making yourself out to be a weirdo. No one likes weirdoes so I actually did you a favor by knocking it down. You should be thanking me not making me say sorry for helping you, weirdo."

Derek stared wide eyed at the kid who talked faster than those salesmen on the TV. He didn't realize the only reason Stiles had stopped talking was because he was waiting for Derek to actually thank him. It clicked when the boy cleared his throat and tapped his foot on the tiled floor.

"I'm not saying thank you to you, you scared me and you're mean." Derek protested and crossed his arms.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Well, _sorry_ but the big bad wolf isn't supposed to be scared of little red riding hood."

"You just called yourself a girl," Derek pointed out with a small smile.

Stiles' jaw dropped, "Little red riding hood can be a boy!"

"But _she_ isn't," Derek said, biting his lip to keep from laughing at the face Stiles was making.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something but then shut it and flailed his arms out of frustration, "Ugh. Fine. Touché"

"What's that mean?" Derek asked, tilting his head a little.

"I don't know but my daddy says it a lot when my mommy wins an argument he started," Stiles explained with a shrug.

"Is that your Batman?" Derek asked, pointing to the action figure still peeking out of Stiles' pocket.

Stiles looked down at it and took it out. He grinned before launching into an animated, mostly one-sided conversation about how Batman is the best superhero ever.

After that Derek and Stiles were practically inseparable. They partially rebuilt the wall so it looked like a wall in a ruined city and were playing werewolves and hunters against Batman and Timber. Derek went from playing silently by himself to screaming sound effects and orders to retreat over Stiles' own sound effects and screams to attack. The werewolves and hunters were getting trampled.

"Stiles?" "Derek?"

Both boys instantly looked up from the bloody battlefield to see their mothers standing over them. They stared at their mothers for a few moments then they returned to the bloody battle at hand.

"It's time to go home," Stiles' mother said in a soft, fond voice.

Derek frowned at that and looked at his own mother who nodded in agreement. With a sad little sigh he started to pack up his soldiers.

Stiles wasn't so obedient. He crossed his arms and stared up at his mother defiantly. "Mom! No! Batman was just about to defeat the hunter army and save Timber from the werewolves at the _same time_!"

"That sounds very exciting but your Dad is waiting for us," Stiles' mother said in a firmer voice.

Stiles was clearly about to protest when Derek's mother added "You two can pick up where you left off tomorrow."

That seemed to do the trick because Stiles jumped to his feet and grabbed his own mother's hand, yanking on it. "Really?! We get to come back tomorrow?"

His mother just nodded and a huge grin lit up his face like he was just told Christmas came early this year. He looked at Derek and practically screamed "We get to come back tomorrow!"

"Yep," Derek smiled back at him.


	2. Third Grade

Third Grade

Stiles quickly ducked behind the large table in the middle of the gym that housed the large volcano diorama that had the words 'Science Fair' exploding from it. They had come to the high school on a fieldtrip to see the older students' projects but that was the last thing on his mind. A new girl had just started at Beacon Hills Elementary and she was beautiful. Correction, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen and had a name to match. Lydia Martin. How beautiful was that?

He inched along the side of the table until he could peer around the corner and watch the beautiful Lydia as she glared up at the high schooler that was trying to pass a plant under a lamp off as a science project.

Stiles gaped as he watched Derek walk right up beside her and completely _ignore_ her – how could _anyone_ just _stand there_ like that and _not_ stare at her beauty – in favor of questioning the teenager about his reasons for picking that particular disgusting plant.

_Wolfsbane_, his mind lazily informed him when he spotted the ugly purple flowers.

"Derek, look at her!" Stiles whispered, knowing Derek could hear because of his superhuman ears. "She's so beautiful."

Derek sighed with his whole body and turned away from the babbling teenager – that clearly needed to get the approval of two third graders, loser – to stare at Stiles with his patented unimpressed glare.

"Stop looking at me!" Stiles hissed, frantically trying to point Derek's attention anywhere else but at him. "She might look!"

She did look and Stiles had barely managed to get behind the table in time. He wanted to strangle the jerk for giving him away. If Lydia saw him make a fool of himself he could not allow Derek to live. The feeling faded quickly when, a second later, Derek was at his side, crouched behind the table with him, a warm hand on his shoulder.

Derek was such a good friend, there was no way he could really kill him or stay mad at him for very long. He smiled at the young werewolf who smiled back and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"Why don't you just talk to her?" Derek asked, a confused expression replacing the warm smile. He had made it clear on several of the occasions that Stiles brought Lydia up that he didn't understand Stiles' fascination with her. Derek didn't think she was drop dead beautiful, he just called her okay. _Only okay_.

He always knew the werewolf was a weirdo but that, that was just plain wrong.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something then shut it again. He really didn't have a reason to not talk to her. "She's a goddess. What do I even say to a goddess? Do you like Batman?"

"Exactly," Derek smiled faintly then shoved Stiles out from behind the table.

He stumbled to his feet, arms flailing as he tried to get his balance so he didn't faceplant on the dirty gym floor. Once he was up right, he spun around and stared at Derek. He couldn't believe his best friend had just done that to him. The feeling of wanting to strangle and kill Derek came back tenfold.

"Go," Derek urged, wildly gesturing for him to just go up to her already.

Stiles looked from Derek to Lydia then back again before his gaze finally rested back on Lydia. She was examining a poorly made model of the solar system. She wasn't staring at him so maybe she hadn't seen him flail around like an insane person. He perked up a little at the thought and glanced at Derek one last time. He was giving him two thumbs up and that adorable little grin of his. Stiles tried to glare at him but it was a weak attempt at best. He literally couldn't be mad at Derek when he was looking at him like that, like he completely believed in him.

Stiles took a deep breath, puffing his chest out and turned back to Lydia. He walked as casually as he could over to her. She was pursing her lip glossy lips, clearly annoyed with something the teenager who made the model had said to her.

He was right about to introduce himself when she said it, the statement that would, if not handled properly, turn him into an immature boy in her eyes forever.

"Uranus is _in between_" – _oh god, no_ – "Saturn and Neptune. Not Earth and Mars." – _phew_ – "It's a _gas_ giant."

_No!_

Before he could stop it laughter bubbled up in his throat and escaped. Laughing hysterically, he nearly doubled over to clutch his sides. He wanted to stop, to not be practically screaming "You just said Uranus is gassy" at the top of his lungs so everyone at the fair stared straight at him.

He really couldn't help it. It wasn't his fault. They had learned the planets yesterday morning and by the afternoon Uranus jokes were all that came out of any of the boys' mouths. His rational side knew she wasn't trying to be funny – the model was really just that poorly made – but dear god, the way she had said it.

He had to wipe tears from his eyes by the time the laughter turned into sporadic giggles. He looked up and the giggles stopped immediately. Lydia was glaring daggers at him, staring straight into his very soul. Her glare put any of Derek's to absolute shame. Such an ugly glare didn't belong on such a beautiful face.

She continued to glare at him as if trying to make him explode with the power of her mind alone. He had to admit – even if he was killed because of it – it would make her infinitely more attractive if she had superpowers. Then, suddenly, she spun around on her little two inch, pink high heels and stormed off. She left him gaping, staring after her for a good five minutes.

He just made the worst first impression in the history of first impressions. He wanted to call after her, to get her to come back so he could apologize and start over. Maybe if he found the right words then he could turn this into one of those funny things they would look back on and tell their grandchildren about.

He didn't find the right words though. In fact, every single word in his vast arsenal had left him, rendering him completely and utterly silent for once in his life. The only sound that escaped his wide open mouth is a choked off whine. He reached out and made grabby hands at her back as if he could will her to turn around with the wiggle of his fingers.

When she didn't even look over her shoulder at him he dropped his hands and turned to Derek who was still crouched behind the big table in the center. Derek stared right back at him with mixed emotions written on his face. Stiles could pinpoint disappointment, pity and… amusement.

That jerk!


	3. Fifth Grade

Any suggestions for 7th grade will be much appreciated – I sorta have a plan but if anyone suggests something better I'll jump on it. It'll be stiles' pov.  
Spoiler alert: I hate writing panic attacks as much as I hate having them.

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Fifth Grade

The day was unnaturally perfect. Well, some would describe it as perfect. The sun was shining up above. White fluffy clouds dotted the sky but never blocked out the sun. There was a fresh, cooling breeze and birds that sang sweet melodies from their leafy green trees.

It was sickening.

Derek looked down at Stiles' hand as he took a gentle hold of it. He didn't wince when Stiles latched on a little too tightly. If he didn't know better he would swear that Stiles was just trying to break his hand. He squeezed back and Stiles' death grip loosened a fraction. He stared at Stiles' pale fingers intertwined with his. He was unable to look away from their fingers. If he looked up again he would see all those crying faces again. He would see Stiles' crying face.

That, he really couldn't take.

He took a deep breath and thought about what Laura had told him as she tied his tie for him. She told him not to cry, no matter how sad he was he wasn't allowed to cry. Today was Stiles' day to cry, to be sad. He could cry all he wanted when he was at home after the service but not before or during.

He bit his cheek – the dull pain keeping him grounded – and forced himself to look up. Sure enough everyone was crying, either silent tears or openly sobbing, except Stiles.

Stiles was staring blankly at the unfairly beautiful floral arrangement that rested on top of the polished black coffin as it slowly sank into the Earth. His golden orbs were amazingly focused; only the shine of unshed tears and his death grip gave away how he was really feeling.

Derek studied Stiles' face – he was green and looked thinner than normal. He decided then that it would be easier to see Stiles crying his eyes out than to see him so silent and closed off.

Biting his cheek harder, he gently tugged on Stiles' arm. Stiles turned his gaze to him and Derek felt his heart sink.

As they stared at each other Stiles' blank mask slowly began to fall away. His chin trembled and his eyebrows furrowed. He was on the edge of sobbing. Derek reached up and rested his free hand on Stiles' trembling shoulder. The reaction was instantaneous; Stiles practically lunged into his arms. With his head buried in the crook of Derek's neck, Derek could feel the tears finally escape.

He silently held Stiles as his body quaked with sob after sob. He held Stiles as close as he could, his free hand stroking the soft, tiny hairs that covered Stiles' head.

They had wanted to show their support for Stiles' mother while she was getting out of the hospital for the first time in months. After hours of brainstorming, it had been Derek's idea to shave their heads and grow their hair back along with her.

However, they only had the chance to shave Stiles' hair off before the deputy sheriff came home and found them using his electric razor. He was yelling at them about how unsafe that was until Derek handed over the razor and said "He shaved for her."

After that the deputy got really quiet and left the bathroom, leaving them to clean up. They talked about shaving Derek's hair but the deputy had held on to the razor and had taken it with him. In the end, Derek promised that he would shave his hair off once he got home but apparently the deputy warned Derek's parents and they hid all the razors so he couldn't do it.

The worst part was that they wouldn't budge on the subject no matter how many times Derek explained the importance of showing his support.

Derek's grip tightened on his best friend as a wave of his own sadness hit him. He didn't cry, only a single tear escaped – it didn't count as crying – and slowly rolled down his cheek before it was absorbed by Stiles' suit jacket like it never happened.

They were clinging to each other for dear life when it happened. Stiles began trembling almost violently with choked off sobs that were coming too close together for him to be able to actually breath. His body sagged heavily against Derek's and Derek managed to cry for help before Stiles completely collapsed.

The deputy snapped out of his own silent tears just in time to catch the two before Derek's own legs gave out. He took Stiles away from Derek and lowered him to the ground. The deputy was telling him how it was okay, to calm down and breathe but anyone could see those were all the wrong things to say because moments after Stiles started to claw at his own scalp, shaking and sobbing even more uncontrollably.

Derek was at his side, terrified. Stiles had never acted like this before. He didn't know what to do or how to help.

His mother would have known just what to do in this situation but she and the rest of his family hadn't attended the funeral. They said they couldn't, not when they could have done something – like given the bite – to save Stiles' mother's life. They had offered everyday but even when it was unbearable she had said no to it. Everyone knew that when someone was so against the bite – as she was – that it was less likely to take

He did the only thing he could do and repeated Stiles' name, trying to ground him, "Stiles… _Stiles_… _Stiles_!"

Golden eyes finally opened and met his, wide with fright. He could smell it now, the cold sweat that broke out on someone's skin when they were so desperately terrified. He swallowed thickly and reached out, cupping Stiles' damp cheeks. Stiles instantly latched onto his wrists and pushed his face into the touch as another sob ripped through him.

Derek looked the deputy straight in the eye and used his grown up voice as he said "I need my backpack. It's in your car. Go get it."

The deputy stared back at him with a confused expression aging his face as he held Stiles from behind. In response Derek hardened his eyes and jerked his chin in the direction of the parking lot. He didn't really think that pretending to be the alpha would work, so when the deputy sheriff lowered his gaze and stood up he was pleasantly surprised. He kept his gaze hard as he watched the man work his way through the crowd that had formed around them but softened it as he looked back at Stiles.

With his dad gone, Stiles seemed to freak out again. Derek pulled him close, cradling his head against his chest. He hated feeling so helpless when his best friend, only friend really, was involved. He began to make soothing growling sounds – like his mother always did when he was upset – to quell Stiles' sobs. Lucky for him it seemed to work.

A smile crept onto Derek's face when Stiles slowly started to breathe normally again, deep calming breaths, and stopped sobbing. He pressed his cheek to the top of Stiles' head and closed his eyes. Long, comfortable minutes passed like that, just silently holding onto each other.

When Derek opened his eyes he saw the deputy standing over them, watching them with an unfocused gaze and holding his backpack in loose grasp. Slowly, the deputy's eyes met his and they stared at each other until the deputy held the backpack out to him. Derek broke eye contact and grabbed his backpack.

He had a difficult time getting the zipper open since he refused to let go of Stiles and bat the deputy's hands away when he tried to help. He managed to get it open, eventually. Reaching inside, he pulled out Timber. The poor, old wolf plush had seen much better days.

He tucked the wolf in the small gap of space in between him and Stiles. He bowed his head and whispered in Stiles' ear, "He'll be yours from now on. He'll be yours forever."

Stiles sleepily looked down at the wolf plush then up at Derek. He let go of Derek so he could wrap the wolf protectively in his arms. "Won't you need him?"

Derek's heart clenched painfully at the sound of Stiles' voice. He sounded so sad, so defeated. He wouldn't sound so sad if he really understood what Derek was giving him… would he?

He grabbed the wolf by the neck and tilted its head up so it was staring up at Stiles. "I love you, Stiles," He said in a growly voice, trying to mimic what a true wolf might sound like if it could talk.

Stiles smiled down at the wolf and said "I love you too, Timber."

Well, that was good enough for now. Stiles may not have understood the symbolism behind the gift but at least it got him smiling. Today was not really the day for this anyway.


	4. Seventh Grade

Dear guest 'Meh,' I really, really loved your idea! I twisted it some because I read an interview that said he doesn't actually have ADD. So I used why _I_ was diagnosed with ADD (AKA a stupid reason (however, the meds actually help me but whatever)). I hope you all like it!

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Seventh Grade

The last two and a half months had been Hell, absolute, undeniable Hell. It was all because he had stupidly forgotten to turn in his homework a couple of times. So what if his grades might have slipped a little bit because of it? In his eyes, it was the teachers' fault for having them turn it in at the end of class when he was focused on packing up so he could get to his next class on time.

Besides, it wasn't like he couldn't easily do a bunch of extra credit and pull them back up in about a week. No big deal. It was absolutely no reason to go and put him on ADD medication.

The first medication they tried had him in hysterics and panic every hour, nearly on the hour. His chest would restrict so it was hard to breath and he would get dizzy and at its worst he would flash back to the night he sat by his mom when she… and he would just collapse in the middle of class. It was so much worse when he was in one of the classes that Derek wasn't in with him.

It took the teachers a couple days to realize that the only thing that could help him was Derek. A warm hug from his best friend would calm his nerves and bring him back from his waking nightmare. As soon as the teachers realized Derek was the cure they started to pull him out of his classes every time Stiles would start to tremble.

It got so bad that Derek had to rely on a girl named Paige to get his notes so he didn't fail.

Stiles took it as his duty as Derek's best friend to push him into dating Paige when he wasn't in the process of having a panic attack. However, for some unknown reason, Derek kept refusing to make the first move. So of course Stiles _had to_ start the rumors that they were secretly dating. You know, to keep Paige off the market for when Derek finally came to his senses.

The doctors kept him on that medication for a freaking month. They kept telling him over and over that the side effects would fade and it would help him in the end. It turned out they didn't know anything because the side effects didn't go away until they put him on something else.

The next month was full of terrible mood swings and even less of an attention span than he already had. It was _almost_ as horrible as the panic attacks. One second he would be full of happiness and the next he was so angry that he exploded at the smallest things. School was Hell because the teachers were too stupid to understand anything!

He was so out of control of his emotions that he had attacked _Derek_ one night.

They were messing around; playfully arguing over what movie to watch first when the worst wave of violent anger hit him like a freight train. He tried his hardest to control it, to push it away. He glanced over at Derek who looked up from putting in the DVD and met his gaze.

When asked later Stiles would have to say it was that little, secret smile of Derek's – the one that conveyed how much he really cared about Stiles – that set him off. He lunged at his friend, pinning him to the carpet without warning. He tried his hardest to scratch Derek's face off even with the limitation of his human nails.

His face was just so damn stupid!

It only made Stiles angrier that Derek caught his wrists before he could make contact with his face. He tried harder to scratch Derek, ignoring the words coming from his best friend's mouth.

"Stiles stop it! What are you doing?" Derek growled, his beautiful green eyes flashing that ugly yellow in warning.

"Shut up!" Stiles screamed and doubled his efforts. They scuffled for the better part of ten minutes before Stiles managed to twist one of his wrists out of Derek's grasp. The uncontrollable rage only subsided when his nails finally sank into Derek's cheek, clawing it open and drawing blood.

Stiles stared down at Derek with clear eyes for the first time since the anger took over. Derek looked wild, wide glowing yellow eyes, hair disheveled from Stiles ruthlessly yanking on it, defensive scratches on his arms and neck and the worst of it, the deep gashes on his left cheek. They were red and angry and bleeding and… weren't healing.

"You're… not… healing." Stiles whispered as he reached out to touch Derek's bloody cheek. "Why aren't you healing, Derek?"

Derek opened his mouth as if to answer then shut it again and looked over at the front door. A moment later Stiles' dad came through the door. "Hey, boys, I–"

His dad stared at the scene for a few moments before he sprang into action. He rushed over and pulled Stiles off of Derek. He ordered Stiles to sit on the couch and not to move as he helped Derek up and to the kitchen.

Stiles wanted to run after them apologizing to Derek and to his dad but his dad's tone had left no room for him to disobey. He folded his hands in his lap to keep them from twitching. He hated that there was blood – Derek's blood – under his nails but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. He sat quietly, tears welling up in his eyes – damn mood swings – as he listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen.

When Derek and his dad returned Derek was fully healed, the only sign of a struggle was his disheveled hair and the blood under Stiles' fingernails. Derek walked over to him with a wet wash cloth and started wiping away the blood. He nuzzled his head against Stiles' cheek as his dad told him Derek would be going home instead of staying the night because he would have an early appointment the next day to adjust his medication.

Now, he was on something that made him tired beyond belief. His dad worried about him not turning in his homework before well how did not even attempting to do it because he was so damn tired all the time sound, hm?

He should be at the winter formal, dancing his butt off but instead he was at home in bed drifting somewhere between asleep and outrage. Derek, the amazing, wonderful friend that he was, managed to get Paige to convince Lydia – _Lydia Martin_ – to go to the formal with them! It was like a double date – although Derek had made it clear, on several occasions, that he still didn't have feelings for Paige. The liar.

The point was it was his chance to get in Lydia's good graces again and he was missing it! He was too tired to go!

A yawn ripped through him and sleep told his irritated mind to put it all to rest. So of course he gave in without much of a fight.

When he woke up Derek was sitting at the foot of his bed with snacks and a stack of movies cradled in his arms. It should have startled him, made him jump or scream or something to have someone suddenly _there_. However for some reason, no matter how creepy Derek could be – and he could be freaking terrifying – there was always something reassuring about having the young werewolf just suddenly there. Yeah, it made absolutely no sense to him either.

"Hey," He murmured as he forced his tired body into a sitting position.

Derek didn't look at him; in fact he was avidly staring at his sneakers. He seemed like he was completely uncomfortable in his own skin. "Hi."

Stiles frowned at the crack in his best friend's voice. Derek sounded like he was holding back a sob. "Derek, what's wrong?"

Derek's chin trembled faintly and he curled in on himself. He just shook his head and didn't answer.

The silence between them became increasingly uncomfortable. It had never been uncomfortable between them before. To be honest, that was freaking him out more than the idea of Derek crying. Well, maybe not more but pretty damn close. He did the only thing he could think of in a situation like this one: he talked.

"I bet the dance was really nice. I saw the decorations for it being set up while I was in gym yesterday. They picked kind of lame colors for the streamers. I mean, I know those are our school colors and all but why didn't they think outside the box a little? Maybe I should help out for the next dance." He paused to take a breath and noticed Derek was at least looking at him now.

"I bet Lydia looked amazing, doesn't even matter what type of dress she wore, she looked great right? Oh! Was Paige pretty? What type of dress did she wear? Did you two dance? Kiss, maybe? Wait… what happening to your nice button up?"

Derek visibly winced as he lowered his gaze again. He wasn't wearing the white button up and plum tie that Stiles had helped him pick out to make his eyes glow – without supernatural help. Instead, he was wearing a shirt that had the word 'nerdy' – everyone already knew, Derek, no need to show off – written across it in elements' initials from the periodic table and ripped up jeans.

"I changed," Derek shrugged.

Stiles frowned. He didn't understand why Derek was acting so strangely. Maybe he kissed Paige after all and was being a gentleman. He didn't picture Derek as a 'doesn't kiss and tell' type of guy, not when he always told Stiles everything. Stiles shrugged and took the stack of movies from Derek who seemed to relax a little bit after that.

He decided it would be better not to mention the dance again that night. Something bad had to have happened for Derek to be so strange about it.

So he dropped it and put in Van Helsing. They stretched out on Stiles' bed and cracked into some of the snack that Derek had brought. They ate as they cuddled like they always did during movie nights. Werewolves will always be the best cuddle buddies in Stiles' book. It was so comfortable that they both fell asleep before the movie ended. Stiles amazing outlasted Derek but just barely.

Stiles woke up a few hours later – according to his alarm clock – when light flooded his room. The light was coming from the hallway where his dad stood in the doorway holding the phone to his ear. A deep frown crossed his dad's face as he muttered "Yeah, he's here, Talia" into the phone.

Stiles looked down at Derek who was cuddled up against him, his head rested on his chest. Something really bad must have happened for Derek not to tell his mother where he was and sneak into his room through the window to avoid his dad. Something twisted in his stomach and he tightened his arms around his best friend. Stiles smiled when Derek stirred in his sleep, nuzzling into his chest with a happy little sound.

"He's asleep right now but I'll have him ready for you," His dad sighed into the phone, running a hand through his hair.

Stiles' smile vanished and he shook his head, staring wide eyed at his dad. "Can't he just stay here tonight, dad?"

His dad frowned then nodded and shut the door as he said "Change of plans, Talia."


	5. Ninth Grade

So I feel like a horrible person... I honestly hated writing this but I couldn't stop myself. Totally didn't listen to sad songs and cry while writing this… I mean what? Oh, it's like the length of the entire fic so far… I guess that's a good thing for a middle chapter?

This one is duel POVs. Separated by the ***

Oblivious Stiles is… well, still oblivious and a total, total jackass.

I'm in love with my readers and reviewers! Honestly, just hearing you all love this keeps me writing it.  
- apparently psychic

* * *

Ninth Grade

Stiles took the bottle of Adderall out of his locker and downed one of the orange pills without anything but his spit. He felt like Dr. House whenever he did that, which was kind of an awesome feeling. He bounced on the balls of his feet as he pulled out everything he would need for his homework tonight.

"Do you think they're actually sleeping together?" Scott asked as he shut his locker and leaned up against it.

Stiles looked over at his best friend. Scott was staring off down the hallway, somewhere behind Stiles. He raised his eyebrow at Scott until he noticed and pointed down the hall. He followed Scott's finger until he spotted the couple he was talking about. His stomach turned when he saw it was Derek, openly flirting with his baseball coach's assistant and gym teacher Ms. Kate.

He frowned at the pair. He had never trusted her, the moment she introduced herself, _Ms. Kate_. What kind of teacher in their right mind gave students their first name and not their last name? Her last name wasn't even on her faculty id card.

"What makes you think they are?" Stiles asked as he ripped his gaze away from that soft, secret smile on Derek's face.

Scott shrugged, "She's always pulling him off into empty classrooms and stuff. Plus, everyone says they are, even teachers whisper about it. They just don't have the proof to turn her in."

Stiles bit down a wave of emotions. It was an evil mix of… irritation, maybe? Anger? He knew part of it was disgust at the fact she was a full grown adult seducing a minor but the other big feeling, the one he couldn't place... It felt a lot like jealousy but Ms. Kate creeped him out so no way would he be jealous of Derek.

Stiles looked back at his locker and stared at the picture in the very back of it, the one just barely peeking out from behind the row of text books and folders. It was of him and Derek at their middle school graduation just last year. Derek was hugging him a little too tightly in the picture but they were both grinning like madmen because they were going to high school and getting closer to their shared dream of getting out of Beacon Hills.

He kept that picture and couldn't bring himself to get rid of it because it was like he had the old Derek back that day. Derek had changed after that night at the dance back in seventh grade – he became colder and more distant than usual. Stiles always guessed his change in attitude was because Paige had suddenly gone missing after that night – he always knew Derek had liked her more than he led on.

However, what was really weird was that Derek's eyes changed color too. Instead of that ugly beta yellow, they started to glow a lovely electric blue and he wouldn't say why.

Stiles looked away from his Derek in the picture and back at the real Derek. He was grinning at Ms. Kate like he had been grinning at Stiles in the picture. Stiles' heart dropped seeing that look again. He thought of the last time he'd talked to Derek. It was three months ago B.K.A.S. – before Kate and Scott.

Derek had run up to him and stopped him from entering their geometry class. He pulled him aside and told him that he got on the _varsity_ baseball team instead of just the junior varsity team he had tried out for. He practically gushed over the fact that the coach thought he was good enough to play with the upper classmen. It was the first time in a long time that Stiles had seen Derek genuinely happy about something. Stiles had smiled and hugged him in congratulations.

When he pulled back some, his arms still around Derek's neck, there had been a really strange, intense moment between them. Derek's arms tightened around his waist and his smile widened just a fraction. Stiles looked down at that smile and wet his suddenly too dry lips. When he looked back up at Derek's eyes, they were tacking the movement of his tongue.

It felt almost like what he'd imaged the moment leading up to a kiss might feel like. He inhaled deeply to calm his nerves and pulled himself out of Derek's arms. He patted his shoulder and said "No homo, just way to go, man."

After that he turned away to head into the classroom but he caught a glimpse of that smile on Derek's face fading away. By the time they took their seats Derek's expression had reverted back into his usual sullen gaze.

They hadn't really talked – other than to say hi to each other – since that afternoon. It wasn't Stiles' fault though, he tried calling and texting Derek to ask when his games were so he could attend but Derek never returned either one. It also didn't help that they only had one class together and were assigned seats on opposite sides of the room.

It got so bad that instead of spending their afternoons in the library like they had done the first half of the year, Derek started spending that time with Ms. Kate. His excuse when Stiles asked him about it was that she was helping him with his pitching. That had made Stiles angry. It was a lie because he knew that Derek's pitching skills were practically at a professional level. So he might have lashed out at Derek when he told him that.

It only took two weeks of lonely afternoons for the universe to finally throw him a bone and send him Scott McCall. In less than a week Scott had easily replaced Derek as Stiles' best friend.

"I'm just saying," Scott continued, "if he is getting laid then she has some pretty shitty taste in guys. I mean come on! What's so great about Derek Hale? He's the scrawniest werewolf I've ever seen and he's a huge dweeb –the definition of socially awkward!"

Stiles looked at Scott and grinned even if it felt a little forced. "That's why I love you buddy, you totally share my brain."

Scott practically beamed at him before turning to head off toward the library. "So, that sleep over Friday, yay or nay?"

Stiles turned to follow but stopped to spare one last glance at Derek. He narrowed his eyes as he watched Ms. Kate caress – yes, freaking caress – Derek's cheek.

_Who needs him!_

Stiles really wanted to smile at the thought because he had Scott who was amazing and wouldn't leave him unlike Derek. Derek had left him behind like their friendship was nothing to him. However, instead of smiling for his new, better friendship he frowned over his old one.

He watched as Ms. Kate leaned in and whisper something in Derek's ear and before he could stop himself he muttered "Freaking disgusting."

As soon as the words left his lips, Derek's green eyes caught his. They stared at each other for a few breathless moments. Stiles was the one to break eye contact to glance pointedly at Kate as if to explain that he had been talking about her and not about Derek. Derek, the moron, didn't seem to understand him if the hurt edging into his gaze was anything to go by. After a heavy moment, Derek was the one to lower his eyes and turn away so Stiles couldn't see his face anymore.

That made Stiles angry. Derek had absolutely no right to play the hurt party in this scenario. He was the one that had left Stiles for no reason. So even if Stiles had been calling him disgusting then he should just shut up and take it.

Stiles glared at Derek. He should just walk over there and smack him. He should yell at him. Tell him that he was a shitty best friend if he was going to just leave for some disgusting creeper pedophile.

"You coming?" Scott asked, snapping Stiles out of his thoughts.

Stile pulled his gaze away from Derek who being pulled off down the hallway by Ms. Kate. Stiles fought off another wave of anger. He wasn't going to let Derek spoil his afternoon with Scott so he pushed his feelings aside and put on a smile. "Yeah, I am and yes to the sleep over. My dad will be on duty so it'll just be us."

"It'll be a party!" Scott cheered as they walked into the library.

When Stiles finally got home after Scott and his homework session, he flopped down on his bed. He had had a great time with Scott and he got all his home done, even the stuff that wasn't due until Friday. Nothing could ruin his good mood. Not even the fact that he had to think of something for dinner since his dad wouldn't be home until after he went to bed.

Well, he thought nothing could ruin his mood until his brain decided to helpfully pull up the look of hurt on his former best friend's face.

The anger that he had pushed aside earlier flared up again. He wished he had Derek there with him so he could punch his face in while he yelled at him. He sat up suddenly remembering he did have a good substitute for Derek that he could take his anger out on.

His eyes slid over to his bedside table where Timber sat happily beside his lamp. He narrowed his eyes at the stuffed wolf. Its happiness just caused more anger to flare up in his chest. He had kept it because… well, he didn't know why. Maybe it was a subconscious reason and he had known someday he would be done being sad about losing Derek and would need something to take his anger out on.

His subconscious was a genius.

He grabbed the wolf by the ear and smacked its body violently against his bed, repeatedly, until he was out of breath and heard a rip. He stopped instantly and looked it over. The ear had ripped almost completely off. He should have seen it coming, really. It was an old stuffed animal, fragile in its age. The wolf had been Derek's favorite toy all through his childhood up until he had given it to Stiles who had put it through Hell as well.

He gently touched the broken stitches and held the wolf to his chest for a brief moment before he threw it against the wall with all his might. The wolf bounced off the wall with a surprisingly loud smack and landed almost perfectly in the small trashcan beside his desk.

Stiles jumped to his feet and started toward it to fetch it out of the bin but stopped when he realized what he was doing. The wolf belonged in the trash. After all, it was where Derek had thrown their friendship. He sat back down on his bed, having to tear his eyes away from the wolf.

He buried his face in his hands and sighed heavily. He knew he had to let it go. Derek and him were over, no longer friends. He had to take comfort in the fact it wasn't his fault but Derek's and move on with his life. He had Scott now. He should really learn to be happy with that. It was getting too hard to still care about someone who didn't care about him.

He decided that it was time for him to learn to stop caring too.

It had been two days since Stiles agreed with that Scott kid about him and called him disgusting and Derek still couldn't get it out of his mind. Their conversation constantly played in his head on repeat and without fail tears would burn his eyes whenever he heard Stiles' voice saying that word.

He didn't need _Stiles_ or any of the students or teachers in this stupid school pretending to know what was going on with him and Kate. They shouldn't judge what they didn't understand. Kate listened to him and showed him affection in ways certain other people would never show him. She was in love with him and he… really wanted to be in love with her too.

He felt panic starting to well up inside his chest, making him extremely aware of every single vibrating molecule in his body.

Before it got too hard to breath, he turned on the tap and splashed his face repeatedly with cold water. The icy bite brought him back to the present. He was in the boy's bathroom, leaning against the sink, instead of at lunch like the rest of his classmates because Kate had pulled him out of class and demanded his attention. She left him alone right after the lunch bell rang and he opted to hide rather than face all of those students at once.

He finally met his own gaze in the mirror. His body reflected how rough she had been this time. Usually he didn't have a problem with the rough treatment but this time she had almost been at the point of being cruel. Honestly, he still wouldn't have had a problem with how she was if it wasn't for hearing Stiles' voice in the back of his mind the entire time.

_Disgusting, _it whispered over and over.

He started to fix his clothing and hair as the deep purple hickies and angry red bite marks on his neck and jaw slowly faded away. In a matter of minutes almost all of the evidence of what they'd done was gone. He could still smell her on his skin but there wasn't anything he could do about that so the few other werewolves in the school would just have to suffer the scent of sex for the next two classes.

He stayed in the bathroom for the next half hour, waiting until the bell rang out the end of lunch. He took a deep breath and walked out into the hallway. His attention was immediately drawn to Stiles, a habit he still couldn't seem to break. Stiles was talking animatedly with Scott as usual. Derek felt his heart skip when he caught sight of Stiles' 'Lydia smile.'

What he would give to have Stiles smile like that when he thought about him…

He shook his head started to go back to class. People shoulder checked him but he'd learned to just ignore it. A lot of people hated him for numerous reasons – be it his brain or his ability in baseball or the fact he was a werewolf or because of the rumors about Kate, the reasons were endless.

He looked up when he smelled stale sweat, printer ink and cheap coffee. Sure enough there were two police officers standing outside his classroom with his teacher, Mrs. Jameson. She looked like she was in distress, hands shaking as they covered her face, muffling her voice. Derek slowed to a stop in the middle of the hallway and listened carefully.

"Oh god, are you sure…?" She choked, clasping her hands together at her chest now.

"I'm afraid so ma'am," The female officer affirmed and Mrs. Jameson gasped, looking away.

"He… He should be coming back any minute," Mrs. Jameson explained, running a hand through her graying hair. She looked between the officers and sighed softly. "Just be gentle with him, he's a good boy. He doesn't deserve this."

"We actually have sources that say he might be involved," That statement earned the male officer a sharp elbow to the ribs. Derek almost winced in sympathy.

"Oh my god! He would never!" Mrs. Jameson shirked.

Derek's heart went out to the old lady. He was one of her favorite students so she was always so nice to him, unlike some of the other teachers. She really didn't deserve this type of stress, not with her faulty heart. He started over to the trio but stopped dead in his tracks when Mrs. Jameson finally noticed him and whispered, "There he is."

The two officers turned and stared right at him with matching poker faces. The hallway seemed to go silent then, no sound reached his ears except the cold, echoing voice of the female officer asking "Are you Derek Hale?"

He looked helplessly between the two officers. He didn't trust his voice not to convey the sudden fear that was rising in the back of his throat like sick. After a moment he took a breath and nodded.

"We need you to come with us," The male officer said.

"What… What's this about?" He choked out, almost not recognizing his own voice.

"It would be better if we discuss this at the station," The female officer explained, trying to sound comforting but failing miserably.

"Derek, Sweetie, go with them," Mrs. Jameson said softly.

He nodded slowly, "Okay."

That's how he ended up sitting in a freezing cold interrogation room, still unsure of what was going on. He brought his hands to his lips and blew warmth against his stiff fingers. He knew this was an interrogation tactic to set him on edge. He remembered learning about it and several other technics in second grade when Stiles' father came to career day. Unfortunately it seemed to be working or, rather, their tactic of not telling him why he was there was working.

He would never admit it aloud – it was a matter of pride – but he really wanted his mother.

The door opened and the officers walked in. They both paused for a fraction of a second, probably because of the extreme cold. The female officer was the first to recover; she slammed the door shut behind them, making him jump.

"Why am I here?" he asked as soon as he recovered.

"Oh, I think you know why," The female officer snapped.

Derek watched her stalk threateningly over to him, nearly frothing at the mouth in her fury, and then glanced at the male officer who sat silently in the chair opposite his.

_Okay, wow_.

He narrowed his eyes and calmly folded his hands on the cold, metal tabletop. He was going to handle this like an adult. However, he really couldn't help the way his voice cracked, briefly showing his true amusement, when he asked "Are you two really going for the good cop/bad cop routine?"

Both cops seemed to be taken back by that, they really hadn't seen that coming.

Again, _wow._

They shared a confused look and Derek let go of a sigh. "I know – I knew deputy Stilinski's son and I've seen cop movies. So stop playing stupid games and tell me why I'm here or I'm leaving because last I checked I wasn't under arrest."

The female officer made a sour face – he really had to hand it to her, she had her role down pat – and tossed the file folder she had been holding down on the table.

He would forever remember the way the pictures spilled out of it, each one sliding out across the table for him to see. He would forever remember the first image that they selected from the mess and slammed down in front of him. He would forever remember the moment his mind actually processed what he was staring at.

His eyes widened as he stared down at the picture. Tears rushed in seconds later, trying to cloud his vision, trying to protect him from having to see the image of his house engulfed in raging flames. His shaking hands frantically dug through the pictures on the table but instead of getting better, instead of seeing his family being saved from the flames, the images only got worse and worse and worse.

His whole body shook violently and he couldn't breathe. He gasped for breath but it was like he was choking on the smoke from the pictures.

Tears slipped free as he slammed his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to look anymore. He shoved the pictures away and kicked the table away for good measure. However, when he opened his eyes they were still all over the table which was bolted to the floor. He had only managed to spread them out more for his viewing displeasure.

His mind wasn't processing anything that the cops were saying. They could have been speaking gibberish to him. It didn't matter it was just white noise. All he could see was the images of his house and all he could hear was the crackling of the fire and all he could smell was that black smoke.

He needed to go home!

Before the cops could react he was at the door, ripping it open and running. He heard one of them yelling but he kept running. He had almost made it out of the station when supernaturally strong arms wrapped around him. He struggled to get away, kicking and screaming and crying. He kept fighting – even shifted and dug his claws into the arms around him – as he was carried back to the interrogation room.

"No! No! No!" He screamed until his voice felt raw then screamed more, louder. "Let go of me!"

When he was finally let go he was dropped back onto the metal chair in front of those pictures. He tried to run but the hulking werewolf shoved him back in the seat and held him there until he was securely handcuffed to the chair. He struggled wildly and then when he couldn't get loose he screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice cracked as he demanded that they "Take these fucking things off of me, now, you son of a bitch!"

"Wow, he's a feisty one," The male officer laughed.

"What is wrong with you two?!" The werewolf officer bellowed at the humans, cutting through Derek's hoarse screams. "Why would you show him these?"

"We were told by several of his classmates that he has been… _with_ the hunter on a number of occasions. It's why he wasn't in the cafeteria. The boss thinks he's suspect –"

"What?!" Derek screamed, his whole body going ridged with fury. "You think I would do _that_?! _To my own home_?!"

A warm hand closed on his shoulder and forced him back in his seat. "Any moron can tell this boy had no knowledge of this until you showed him those pictures. Clear away them away and I'll take over questioning."

The two cops nodded and piled up the horrible pictures and put them back in that file folder like they were nothing. Some were even folded in the haste to get rid of them. Derek almost told the two to be careful with them. Instead, he watched in silence as the two humans cleared out, leaving him alone with the werewolf.

"My name is Officer Evans. Let me first say how deeply sorry I am for your –"

"Deputy Stilinski, I-I need him to call Laura. She needs to know," Derek whispered brokenly. "It would be better coming from him. She's at college, in New York… She needs to know."

"Right, of course, I'll call him right now. He's actually at your… He's in the field. Is there anything else I can get you?" Evans asked gently as he pulled out his cell and dialed what Derek assumed to be the deputy's number.

After a moment of silence, just listening to the phone ringing, Derek finally willed himself to meet the officer's dark eyes. Instead of sad he just felt numb all over, like he wasn't really in his own body. It was a weird, empty feeling. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Tears had been streaming nonstop down his face until this point and he could really use a tissue but he really only wanted one thing…

"Yeah, get me out of these handcuffs."

"Will we have a problem if I do?" The officer asked as the phone continued to ring.

"No."

"Alright…" The man looked at him as if he didn't quite believe him but he had heard Derek's steady heartbeat. After another moment of hesitation, he took out the keys and unlocked the cuffs. Once the evil things were off Derek rubbed his sore wrists. They were only just beginning to heal from where the cuffs had bit into his skin. The metal must have been laced with something.

The phone finally stopped ringing and a very tired sounding '_Hello?_' came through the line.

"Hello, sir, this is Evans. I'm here with Derek Hale he has a request to – Hey!"

Derek had taken his chance and ran for it. He hadn't lied, there wasn't going to be a problem because he wasn't going to be there for long. Maybe next time the officer would learn to be more specific when it came to questioning someone who was from a family of lie detectors. Only an hour ago he would have laughed at the man's mistake but now… Now he just focused on getting away.

He ran outside and the scent of smoke slammed into him. He coughed, having to slow to a fast paced walk to get over the shock to his senses. How had he not smelled it before? It was everywhere. It was choking him.

"You there, stop!" Someone yelled from behind him.

He shook his head to clear it and started running again. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't care as long as it was away from the smoke. He stayed away from the woods knowing that would be the first place the police would look for him. His wolf desperately wanted to feel the soft earthen floor under its paws but he had to stick to human roads and sidewalks.

After a few miles were behind him, he slowed to a walk again. Walking would seem less suspicious. He made his way through town, barely paying any attention to where he was going. His mind was running through all of the pictures like some kind of sick slideshow. He didn't remember seeing any of his family being rescued…

Did they all die? Did anyone make it out of the house in time? Were Laura and him completely alone now?

He finally realized that he hadn't gotten any real answers. Everyone in his family could be perfectly fine. All Officer Evans said was that he was sorry for his loss; he could have just been talking about the house. Hope started to flare up in his chest, filling the emptiness. He tried to control it, to push it away in case the worst happened but it kept growing.

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and howled. It drew several people's attention but for once he didn't care. He listened for a response but nothing came. He tried again but still nothing. His hopes dwindled but they were still alive so maybe his family was.

His feet automatically started walking again, carrying him toward the source of the smoke. The closer he got the faster he moved until he was running full speed towards the smoking embers that was his house. He slowed to a stop at the police tape cutting off access but he couldn't see anything from there, not behind the fire trucks and ambulances.

He frowned and ducked under the tape. Instantly, two officers came out of nowhere to tell him to get back behind the yellow tape. He shook his head. "No, I'm Derek Hale. I have to see my family."

A heavy silence passed over them and Derek understood it better than words. That bit of hope he still held shattered. He exhaled slowly. The world suddenly felt like it was moving without him, laughing as it left him in the dust.

"Your uncle," One of the officers began and Derek immediately snapped out of his daze.

"What about him? Did he survive?" Derek felt a little bit of hope begin to piece itself back together.

The officer paled, "Sort of."

"What does that mean?"

"He's been burned badly by the fire…"

"And?"

"He's completely unresponsive but he's been taken to the hospital for more tests." The officer tried to put a happy spin on it but failed.

All hope died then. The little shattered pieces that were mending themselves just disintegrated in his chest. His family was gone and he didn't know why. He didn't understand why this had happened. Was it a horrible accident? No, it couldn't have been… the police had said something about… about a hunter… Oh god, since when were hunters in town? Wait, why would they go after his family? They all had some kind of code thing about killing humans. His family never hurt humans! His parents are good people…

Were.

His parents _were_ good people…

He turned and walked away, ignoring the calls of his name. He needed to get away from the scene. He really shouldn't have gone to it in the first place. No answering howl should have been enough to tell him his family was gone. They used to always answer his howling.

Every footstep felt like it took his entire being to achieve like his feet were made of lead. However, somehow, everything else felt strangely light. His breath came easy and he was lightheaded and dizzy and felt like his mind could just float away if it wasn't for the suffocating weight of his body.

He walked like that for hours. His world was gone, narrowed to two people – a more than likely brain dead uncle and an oblivious sister.

The sun had already gone down by the time he came back to himself enough to realize where he was. He was slowly walking down the street leading up to the Stilinski's. He fought back the sudden attack of tears. It felt like years since he had seen Stiles' smile. He would give anything, anything he had left, for that tiny bit of happiness that came from seeing his friend's bright smile.

He walked up the driveway and stopped at the door. He stared at the glowing doorbell for a good ten minutes before he could find the strength to poke it.

The cheery sounds rang out, making him shudder. He never thought he could _hate_ as much as he hated that ring at the moment. He should have knocked.

Happy shouts and rushed footsteps on stairs drew his attention back from the dark cloud of hatred that was creeping into his mind. He wasn't a guy that hated things – hate was too strong of a word – he loved, liked and disliked things before. However, now hate seemed like too _weak_ of a word.

The door swung open, temporarily blinding him. He blinked a few times and focused in on Scott's face. Traces of the huge smile that had been on the other teen's face were fading into an irritated stare. Scott crossed his arms over his chest and stared at him expectantly.

God, he hated Scott. How had he not realized this before? The urge to punch him in that stupid looking, puppy face of his was so strong Derek could barely resist it. His hands curled into fists at his sides as he restrained himself.

"I've got the money!" Stiles yelled as he ran into view, his socked feet sliding against the hard wood floors as he stopped beside Scott. His beautiful smile instantly faded when he saw it was Derek standing in the doorway. "Well, you're not the pizza man."

Derek shook his head slightly. "No, I'm not… So–"

"What do you want, Derek?" Stiles snapped. Anger was not a good look for such a beautiful face.

"I… um… Can we –" Derek swallowed thickly and glanced meaningfully at Scott.

"No, whatever you have to say Scott can hear it too."

"But I –"

"Derek, talk or leave."

"Yeah, you're bringing the mood down."

Derek narrowed his eyes at Scott. He wanted to kill him and not in the messing around with your family type of wanting to kill someone either. He wanted Scott's blood under his claws. He took a slow breath in and looked back at Stiles, doing his best to ignore the third wheel. "Can we talk, _please_? Alone. Just for a minute."

Stiles' irritated expression faltered for a fraction of a second then hardened to a glare. "No."

"Please, Stiles," He frowned slightly realizing that he was no longer above begging. He needed his friend now more than ever and if begging would get Stiles to listen for just a few seconds than he would do it.

"Derek, you have ten seconds to say what you want to, in front of both Scott and myself, or I'm shutting this door."

The ten seconds passed and the door shut without him being able to utter a single word to stop it or tell Stiles what had happened. Instead of wrapped in warm arms he was shut out like some salesman. It was his own fault, really. He should have seen it coming after avoiding Stiles for so long. It just hurt too much to be around him.

He reached out and touched the door, just a brush of his fingertips against the wood. He could hear and feel Stiles' heart where he was leaning against it on the other side like it had been a relief to close the door. He took a couple steps backward and stopped just short of falling down the front steps.

He turned and sat down on the steps, staring avidly at the ground until he heard a car pull up in the driveway. Assuming it was the pizza man the two inside had been waiting for, he knew it was best that he wasn't around when they opened the door again. He stood and started walking, not even glancing at the driveway.

Instead of the scent of warm pizza meeting his nose when he heard the car door open, he smelled smoke. Smoke mixed with sweat and dirt and blood and _charred skin_. His stomach rolled violently as he doubled over. He almost missed the gasp of his name over the sound of his own retching. Nothing was coming up but his body seemed extremely intent on getting something to. He couldn't help but wish he hadn't skipped lunch.

"Derek. Derek!"

There was a rush of footsteps and the soft thud of knees hitting the Earth then a large hand closed over his forehead, holding his head up for him. It took what felt like the better part of an hour – though it couldn't have been more than a few minutes – for his stomach to settle. He quickly learned that breathing through his mouth was a better idea than through his nose, the world seemed less toxic that way.

"Derek, are you okay?"

He nodded slowly. Dislodging his fingers from the soft Earth, he slowly sat up. Strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a tight hug. He stiffened for a moment then allowed himself to be held.

"I've been looking all over town for you, kid," Deputy Stilinski whispered into his hair. "I should have known you'd be here."

Tears flooded back. He hated them, hated that they made him feel weak, hated that he couldn't stop them. He curled in on himself, making himself as small as possible. He managed to keep the tears back until the deputy whispered "You're going to be okay."

That wasn't true. The deputy may have believed it enough for it not to register as a lie but it wasn't true. His family, his pack, was gone. The Hales were wiped out –down to just three and one of them hardly counted. His home was gone, burnt down to the foundation and a bit of framing. Stiles wanted nothing to do with him anymore. None of that even hinted that he would be okay. Ever.

They sat on the front lawn, the deputy gently rocking Derek in his arms as he cried, until another car pulled up the drive way. Derek knew it was the pizza man; he could practically taste the toasted crush and cheese. His stomach growled. Again, he cursed himself for missing lunch.

"Looks like Stiles got pizza," The deputy huffed. That almost made Derek smile, almost, since they both knew Stiles wouldn't let his dad have any. "Why don't we go inside? He'll be able to help more than I can."

Derek quickly shook his head, jerking it side to side almost violently. He pulled himself out of the deputy's arms. "He doesn't want me here. I need to go."

"Derek," The deputy sighed, "Don't be silly. You'll stay here and Stiles will be happy to see you."

Derek shook his head again and shot to his feet, backing away. Any second now, he knew Stiles would come out and be angry that his dad was comforting him, his _ex_-best friend. He kept backing away but only turned and ran when the deputy stood and started toward him.

"Derek!"


	6. Eleventh Grade

So, I got called a sadist by one of my readers then got asked how I'm going to fix what happened last chapter by another… That really depends on you define 'fix.' And then once you do, add a 'he's probably not going to' at the beginning of your definition and you have what I'm going to do about it.  
How's that for being a sadist? Mwhahaha... I'm totally kidding, I'll fix it... eventually.

* * *

Eleventh Grade

"_You… You did this?" He gaped in disbelief. "Why would you –"_

"_Really? You didn't know this whole time? Oh, that is too good!" She threw her head back and cackled. Her hands were on her hips, leaving her completely open for an attack but he couldn't move. His claws and fangs were out but he couldn't do anything with them. There was no way to stop her laughter. "You're an even stupider animal than I originally thought!"_

"_I can't believe…"_

"Sir?"

"_What? That it's your fault your whole family is dead?" The smile that had formed on her painted lips was twisted and ugly and purely psychotic. She reached out and caressed his cheek before grabbing his chin and yanking his head forward, nails biting into his flesh. "I never would have been able to get to them if it wasn't for you. I only wish that that older sister of yours had been home too."_

_She licked along the shell of his ear before biting the lobe. She laughed when he tried to lash out, humming happily when the restraints held, keeping him in place. _

"_I think one more kiss is in order," She whispered in his ear, making another happy sound when he shuddered. "I'm going to miss this… your body is just so responsive."_

"Sir?"

_The kiss that followed was rough and bruising and set him on edge, just like she wanted it to. He felt sick, just like when she had stolen his first kiss, the one he had been planning on sharing with his mate. She had taken so much from him and there was no way he could get her back, make her pay._

_He did the only thing he could and sank his fangs into her lip. She pulled back with a start, fingers coming up to dance in the blood on her lips. She glared at him then glanced back to something behind him with a nod. Suddenly, pain blossomed in the back of his head and darkness edged into his vision. He felt himself falling but never felt his body meet the ground._

"Sir!"

Derek's eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly, not really seeing anything. Slowly his eyes came to focus and he stared up at the bus driver that was practically leaning out of the open door to stare at him. The man was like eighty, way too old to be driving. However, he was smiling at him – no one in this city did that.

"Sir, are you getting on the bus?" The old man asked, pushing his thick glasses up from where they had slid down his angular nose.

Derek looked around again, actually seeing everything this time. He was sitting at a rundown bus stop on a shockingly empty street, somewhere in Brooklyn by the look and smell of it. He looked back at the old man and shook his head, "No, sir, I'm not."

"Well, alright then, have a good night," The old man waved as he closed the door and started the bus, much to the relief of his few passengers who Derek heard several sighs of 'Finally' from. He didn't pity them having to wait for him, everyone in this city needed to slow down and learn to be patient.

Derek leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and watched as the bus rolled noisily down the vacant street. It was weird for any part of this city to be vacant; it was always so full of life. He briefly wondered what time it was until he caught sight of the glowing red sign over the back windows of the bus that read were the bus was going flashing that it was 3:15 am.

He tried to do the math to see how long he had been out this time in his head but what once came so easy to him was now failing him. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in roughly two years and it was making his brain sluggish. He started to break it down into a timeline, thinking that would help. He had left Laura's apartment to catch the bus at 6 am, then had school from 7 am to 2 pm and had been out wandering the until – he glanced at the sign once more before the bus turned the corner and was out of view – 3:17 am…

It was taking him over two minutes to figure this out? That was just sad.

He gave up and covered his face with his hands. There really wasn't much of a point to figuring out how long he'd been out, he just knew he had to get ready and be at the right bus stop in less than three hours.

Less than three hours to keep his mind distracted, to keep away thoughts of his dream. It wasn't even a dream, it was a horrible memory.

Two years ago he had run from the deputy's warm embrace and had gone to Kate. She had been sweet and understanding as she listened to his woes. She got him water to sip when he started hiccuping through sobs and patted him on the knee. He felt safe with her, that is, until his vision started to blur and he felt dizzy and she leaned in and whispered '_Thank you, I couldn't have done it without you_' into his ear just as he lost consciousness.

That dream always started after all that happened, when he finally regained consciousness and was bound. He liked that dream better than the others actually, since it was a memory. The other dreams were violent nightmares with the sickeningly detailed charred bodies of his family and flames crawling up the walls and locks on doors he couldn't ever get open, leaving him trapped to die with his already dead family.

He always tries not to over analyze why he liked something real – that reminded him that _he_ killed his family – over something his over active imagination came up with.

"Hey," Someone said, snapping their fingers close to Derek's ear, "Got a light?"

Derek looked up at the man and tired not to visibly react. He looked like the type of guy that parents warned their children to stay far, far, far away from. He looked homeless and smelled of filth and fresh blood and sex. Derek felt his own skin crawling from just being in the near vicinity of this man. This city was filled with weird people but very few of them actually set Derek on edge.

"Well?" The man hissed impatiently.

"No," Derek responded tersely.

He wanted to get up and run away from this man whose eyes he could still feel were boring into his skin. After a few uncomfortable moments of sitting there thinking while the man stripped him with his red rimmed eyes, Derek decided the best way to get away without seeming strange was to put on a show. He pulled his phone out and acted like he was checking one of the sixteen unread messages from Laura. With a dramatic sigh to show his displeasure with whatever message he was pretending to read, he got up and started the long walk back to Laura's apartment.

His blood ran cold when he heard the man's footsteps fall in line right behind his. He kept playing with his phone since he remembered hearing at an assembly in ninth grade, right after he moved to the city, that strangers were less likely to attack someone who had their phone out.

However, this man didn't seem to care that Derek could easily dial 911 in comparison to, say, the man across the street smoking a cigarette that suddenly disappeared when he noticed the situation unfolding across the street from him. Leave it to big city people to not want to get involved in _stopping_ a crime. The man could have just yelled 'watch out' when he saw the stranger raise his arm.

Okay, maybe it was natural self-preservation that came when someone saw a gun that made that man disappear without offering a warning. His point still stood though.

The butt of the gun collided with the back of his head before he could react. Big black spots appeared in front of his eyes as the pain exploded against his skull. He tried to shake it off but the disgusting man used his moment of weakness to drag him into an alley – _how clique_ – and shove him up against a wall.

Derek's head throbbed painfully with each beat of his heart until he managed to recover a few moments later. By that time, however, the man's body was pressed all along his back side, one hand tangled in his hair while the other held the gun firmly to his ribs. To Derek's repulsion, the man's hips started to rock into his, transferring that disgusting scent – now laced with lust – to his skin. "Hey, pretty boy, I have something you can do with that gorgeous mouth of yours."

Derek's mind was running a mile a minute with all sorts of different ways he could get out of this situation but he still took a second to roll his eyes at the ridiculous come on. "I think I have a better idea."

He must have piqued the man's interests because he stopped rocking into him and asked "What do you have in mind?"

Without farther comment, he elbowed the man in his solar plexus. The man stumbled backwards, fighting to get air back into his lungs. Derek wheeled around and grabbed the man, kneeing him in the exact spot his elbow had hit. He threw the man to the ground and started kicking him. Not very sports man like but he really couldn't bother to care at that moment.

He was so fucking sick of adults thinking they could do whatever the fuck they liked!

He would admit later that he did get a little carried away but that didn't mean this sicko didn't deserve it. By the time he stopped the man was openly sobbing and he was a little out of breath. He wanted to say something witty, actually, he wanted to say something so horribly cruel that the man would have it playing in his head forever but he couldn't think of anything. If his life were a TV show the writers would be getting some serious crap for him drawing a blank right now.

With one last kick, this time to the groin, he turned and headed out of the alley. He just wanted to go back to Laura's apartment so he could shower and change clothes and then go back to school. Why was that so much to ask for?

An hour or so later he was standing in front of apartment number 27, keys in hands, just staring at the brass numbers. Laura was probably asleep so it was better if he made as little noise as possible. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would be back out of the apartment and on his way to school before she even woke up.

He had never been a lucky person.

When he entered the apartment, Laura was sitting on the couch in her robe and slippers, looking so much like their mother that Derek's ever present scowl twisted into a look of horror. He gaped at her and she stared back with disappointment in her eyes. She had to know what she looked like, had to have planned it all out to get him thrown off his guard.

"Derek."

"Laura."

"_Derek_. It's 4:30 in the morning. Where have to been?"

He bit the inside of his cheek and just shrugged. He silently shut the door and leaned against it for a moment of support. He pushed off and turned to head to his room but Laura was suddenly there, stopping him. Her disappointed expression faltered when her nostrils flared. He knew she could smell that man on him. Hell, a human could smell that man on him. She reached out to him, cupping his cheeks and pulling him close until their foreheads rested against each other.

He let his eyes slip shut. He couldn't look into her eyes, not when he knew what she must have been thinking of him.

Coming to the apartment – he could never call it home – smelling like sex and remnants of lust at 4:30 in the morning. He knew she was thinking he had let himself get used again, this time purely for his body which had finally filled out in the last year.

He looked like what people wanted, what they fantasized about. At least that was what everyone at school and on the streets whispered when they thought he couldn't hear them. He truly didn't understand it. When he looked in the mirror he didn't see the 'flawless' skin, 'bulging' muscles, 'designer' stubble and face that both women and men found 'gorgeous' – their word, not his, never his – that other people talked about.

All he saw was a seventeen year old who was no longer gangly and awkward and who two years ago got his family, his whole family, killed in the worst way imaginable. He even killed Laura; she was just too nice to admit it.

"Derek…" Her voice cracked over his name like it did when he was younger and threw a tantrum, like it did when he woke up screaming from a nightmare, like it did when she felt sorry for him.

He was done. He didn't want or need pity, especially not from her.

He opened his eyes only to narrow them in a death glare that he had perfected over the years. He pulled away from her and pushed passed her to go to his room. His was right about to slam the door when she yelled his name in her Alpha tone. "_Derek!_"

His body tensed as the two sides of him started a war with each other. His wolf wanted him to turn around and try to apologize to its alpha but his human side was pissed at his sister and wanted a door between them.

"_Derek Hale, you come back here right this minute_," She ordered, eyes probably glowing red.

His fingers flexed on his door, one little push and there would be a door between them. He wouldn't have to see the disappointment in her eyes or hear the pity in her voice. Just one little push. He closed his eyes tight and took in a deep breath, willing himself to ignore every single one of his instincts. He kicked the door shut. A sigh punched out of him, he had just disobeyed a direct order from his sister, his Alpha.

_Oh, shit._

He barely had time to jump back out of the way before the door flew open and a snarling Laura in beta form attacked him. She pinned him to his bed, her claws digging into his biceps almost deep enough to scratch bone as she growled threateningly. Despite all his instincts, he defiantly growled back, baring his fangs.

She saw it as a challenge to her Alpha side instead of just the teenage rebellion against his legal guardian that it was. His instincts to submit finally won when she roared in his face. He arched his back, exposing his belly, and tilted his head back, exposing his neck, making himself completely vulnerable. To assert her dominance she sank her fangs into his side, right above his hip, like she would if she was biting him to turn him.

After that they both settled, dominance assured and wounds very slowly healing, Laura was still sitting on top of him. She stared down at him and he stared back with his carefully crafted expression of blankness. "You know that I don't like doing that, Derek."

He just made a noncommittal noise and averted his gaze. It didn't matter if she liked it out not, him being angry with his sister shouldn't always turn into an Alpha/beta problem. Laura wasn't ready to be an Alpha. Their mother hadn't finished teaching her how to control all the Alpha power fully; their mother should have been able to finish teaching her. Instead of sadness, familiar anger flared up in his chest and he said "Can you get off me? I have to get ready for school" through gritted teeth.

He saw her eyes widened out of the corner of his eye. "You're going to school?"

"What else would I do?"

"Derek, you need to sleep."

"No, I don't."

"Want to bet?"

He shot her a glare. She knew he couldn't say no to bets with her, they were the only way he could prove her wrong without her invoking Alpha status to shut him up.

"If you can stay awake for fifteen minutes, lying down, _relaxing_ with the lights off then I'll leave you alone and let you go to school."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips because he knew that would be an easy feat since he wasn't tired. He didn't have to even think about agreeing to it, "Deal."

Laura grinned her 'I already won' grin and that was when he knew he'd fallen into a trap. She had a trick up her sleeve. She hummed and finally got off of him. She picked his phone up off the bed where it had slipped out of his pocket during their scuffle. She pressed a couple buttons, batting his hand away when he tried to take it back. Soon, the soft sound of a rainstorm fizzled through the speakers. He tried to grab it again and she shoved him down on the bed, holding him there while keeping his phone out of reach. She kept messing with his phone until Chopin's raindrops joined the sound of rain.

She was using his most visited website and most played song against him. She knew he used them to calm his mind down enough to get to sleep, she would have heard as much. He glared up at her. "You said nothing about having to listen to that!"

"Oh, but you don't have to listen to it, it'll just be playing in the background," She smiled sweetly at him. "Now lay down and I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

She turned and walked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her. The room was enclosed in darkness and he forced himself to lie there listening to the soft music and rain coming from his phone that she had taken with her so he couldn't turn it off.

It took less than the length of the six minute song for the exhaustion he had been suppressing to sneak up and pull him down into a dreamless sleep.

When he woke up the sun was streaming through his window. He cursed and sat up. Looking at his alarm clock, he frowned at the large black numbers telling him it was 3:57 pm. He had slept for almost twelve hours… Almost twelve hours of undisturbed sleep. That hadn't happened since before the fire, it wasn't how things worked now – he didn't get to just go to sleep.

He still heard the sound of rain coming from his phone but he couldn't hear Laura's heartbeat – she must have gone to class for the day. He got out of bed, body stiff from sleep, and walked out of his room. Sure enough, his phone rested on the coffee table, rainymood still pulled up on the small screen.

He picked it up so that he could turn it off and that was when he saw the note underneath it. It was Laura's loopy handwriting staring up at him. Such pretty writing shouldn't ever say such terrible, awful, ugly things…

_Derek,_

_When I get home we need to talk about returning to Beacon Hills_

_Love,  
Laura_


	7. Graduation

Some Walls Were Meant to Come Down

I love you all. I swear every time someone said they loved it just the way it was I felt warm fuzzies deep inside. I kept a lot of this the same, the only real difference is that there are a bit better explanations for some parts that were previously vague but, like I said, it's largely been kept the same. So here is the – hopefully – improved chapter 7.  
Ps. If it's not better I'm going to cover my eyes and scream "la la la la I can't see the negativeness!"

Graduation

Stiles moved his hips to the music that only he could hear, not caring about the weird stares people were giving him as they walked passed. He was used to being the oddball in this school and he knew his moves were hypnotic – two first places in two different dance contests at Jungle said as much. These hips don't lie.

"I thought you wanted me, 'cause I can't stay with someone else," He sang, not caring in the least if he was a little off key.

The happy, completely carefree mood was mostly due to the fact that he had learned this morning that he was getting a full ride to his top choice college but it was also due to… Okay, so it was all due to the college thing but he was allowed to be excited about it dammit!

"I'll try and suck it up. I just keep fucking up. I want you all to my–"

"Really, dude?" Scott asked, suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

He flailed his arms, accidently ripping his headphones out of his ears as he spun around. Scott was leaning against the lockers with his amused puppy dog smile.

"It's catchy!" Stiles bit back.

"Sure…" Scott trailed off, his eyes glancing off down the hallway.

Ever curious, Stiles tracked his gaze and spotted the crowd of people, well, crowd of girls standing around the entrance to the school. They were like a wall, all whispering to each other as they watched whatever Stiles couldn't see. "What's with that?"

"It's the new kid," Lydia's voice whispered, her breath ghosting over the shell of his ear.

"Oh my god!" He screeched, spinning around to face the strawberry blonde goddess grinning behind him. He glared playful at her until her smile faded and she pursed her lips in annoyance.

It was still so strange to Stiles that he could look directly into those sparkling green eyes and feel nothing even akin to romantic feelings for the girl. He couldn't say when his feelings changed but if he had to guess they had just gradually gone away over the last year. The last year had smashed his idolized version of _The Perfect Lydia Martin_ and made her into a real person with flaws. He loved her and her flaws but in a different way.

"Yeah, all the girls are already talking about him like he's God of the Werewolves or something."

"All the girls, Scotty?" Stiles asked as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"All the girls," Scott confirmed with his patented 'Allison sigh.'

Stiles nodded and offered what he hoped was a sympathetic smile before turning his attention back to the crowd of girls blocking him from seeing anything. He really wanted to know what was so great about a new student – he remembered when Scott was new, he was the only one who even noticed.

"Who cares? Have you seen him?" Lydia scoffed at Scott who shook his head before she turned to Stiles and elbowed him a little harder than she probably meant to. "You're in for a treat."

It was times like these that he regretted ever telling Lydia about his new found attraction to both girls _and_ boys. She already knew something was up with him when she cornered him in the hallway last year, saying she had seen him at Jungle while she was there with Danny. It was the first time she ever really gave him the time of day so of course it just sorta came out with all the other word vomit.

She had laughed and appointed him her new shopping buddy. He readily agreed to anything just so he could be closer to her. Yeah, that was probably when his idolized version of Lydia began to crack, if he was honest with himself.

"I don't have to see him to know that I don't like him already," Scott muttered.

An awkward laugh burst out of Stiles at that but it died in his throat a second later, a weird, choked off shout being the only noise that escaped him. The crowd of girls had parted, revealing a man walking into the school. The man – because _that_ couldn't be called a boy, ever – was absolutely gorgeous.

He had stupid sunglasses on, hiding his eyes, but what could be seen was stunning. He had delicious, dark stubble that followed a jawline that had to be carved by one of the great artist. Stiles could honestly write poetry about how it could cut diamonds. Okay, he knew he was being a little over-the-top but _for God's sake_ the man's hair alone was perfect, black and thick and just the right length to grab on to – he probably didn't even have to style it to get it to look that way.

The leather jacket that rested on the man's broad shoulders did its best to try and hide his exact body type. However, that tight gray Henley he wore under it gave away the glorious ridges of muscle that lay underneath as if it were a second skin.

Stiles felt mouth water as he gaped at the man. He didn't care that he could see Scott staring at him funny or that Lydia was sporting a cocky grin out of the corner of his eyes. Scott made him deal with way worse when he stared helplessly at Allison, he could deal with Stiles finally enjoying some proper eye candy. As for Lydia… she could just go away.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Oh, God, not you too…"

"I told you so."

Stiles waved them both away and watched as Gorgeous made his way down the hall. He wasn't carrying any books with him; it didn't even look like he had a single pencil on him… He could totally borrow and never return one of Stiles'.

God, really? He was stooping that low?

He could deal with how pathetic he was later; at that moment he was distracted by the man's perfect fingers rising to take off those annoying sunglasses.

It seemed like everything slowed to a stop when the shades came off. It was like one of those moments in movies where the hotty took his shades off, all slow motion and sexy but this time when they came off Stiles' heart plummeted. All the air evacuated his lungs in a harsh breath and he had to gasp to get it back.

He instantly knew those pale green eyes, those dark eyebrows and that whole face. He was older with muscles and stubble but there was absolutely no way that it wasn't Derek. Stiles wanted to call out to him but all words stuck in his throat, all he could manage was to open his mouth then shut it again.

Derek kept walking, he walked right passed them and didn't even spare a passing glance.

"Hey, Stiles are you okay?" Scott asked, shaking his shoulder a little harder than he probably meant to.

"Derek," He finally croaked out.

"No! It can't be," Lydia nearly shrieked, her cocky grin replaced by pure shock as she turned and stared at Derek. "No way."

"What? Who?" Scott asked in confusion, glancing from Stiles to Lydia to Derek's retreating back then to Stiles again.

"Derek Hale…" Stiles tore his gaze away from Derek to stare at Scott who looked completely lost. Stiles wanted to shake him. How did Scott not remember Derek? How could Scott not remember that horrible night as vividly as he did? How could Scott stare at him like he was the one who had lost his mind?

Stiles looked back at Derek as he thought about that last time he had seen him.

He had been so terrible to him and he stupidly thought he had been justified in acting that way. He'd actually been proud of himself for not giving in and listening to Derek. That hadn't changed until his dad stormed in when they were paying for pizza. As soon as the door had been shut his dad had demanded to know why Derek had just run away from him, crying.

After Scott had stepped up and explained that they had sent him away because he hadn't explained why he was there, his dad turned to him. "I raised you better than that, Stiles – your mom raised you better than that."

Stiles had stayed quiet for a long time after that comment. If there was one way that him and his dad could really hurt each other or drive a point home then it was to bring up his mom. Only after he finally asked "so do you know why he was here?" did his dad explain.

As he told them both about the house fire and how Derek had been blamed and shown pictures of it before he was even asked if he knew about it, Stiles had a massive panic attack. It was the worst attack he'd ever had – including the first one he had, the one at his mom's funeral. He hadn't been able to breathe as he imagined Derek struggling with something like this all alone in the woods somewhere. He had run out of the house as fast as he could and into the woods, screaming desperately for Derek to come back.

He ran aimlessly until he collapsed in the middle of the woods with a sore throat and a dizzying headache. When Scott and his dad found him they told him he'd been out screaming for Derek for an hour and that it was time to give it a rest for the night and that they would find him in the morning.

They never found him, though.

Once Derek was out of sight, Stiles glanced at Scott again, his friend still looked completely confused. He had to push down a wave of irritation. "For god's sake, Scott! He's Laura Hale's younger brother, you know, the woman we were going to save last year when you got bitten?"

He could see the memory of that night playing out over Scott's face as the same memory played in the back of his mind.

Laura had called Stiles out of the blue, telling him she was back in Beacon Hills and needed him to meet her behind the remains of her old house. He was about to ask why she needed him when there was the sound of a thud and rustling leaves as if she had dropped the phone and then she screamed.

He had been hard pressed to hang up but he needed to call Scott, he needed back up if he was going to go running off in the middle of the night. It wasn't until he was in his jeep and half way to the McCall's that he actually hung up and called Scott. Scott was waiting for him when he pulled up in the driveway and jumped in without a word.

He had broken so many speed limits that night as he raced to the old Hale house. His mind was on Laura and if she was okay and if Derek had been with her when she had been attacked, not on the speed limit. He knew she had to have been attacked, the Laura he knew didn't scream over something little.

They got there and ran aimlessly into the woods in the back of the house. It was a sickening pull that drew him to Laura's body. She was completely sliced in half, a look of horror marring her beautiful face. Scott turned away to lean against a tree while Stiles just stared.

What happened next was all a big blur. Something big came crashing into the small clearing and attacked Scott, Stiles instinctively grabbed the closest weapon there was, a large branch, and swung it at the black shape but it was already too late, its fangs had sank into Scott's side. It looked up and Stiles found himself staring into the red eyes of an Alpha werewolf. It growled and then charged him.

A howl cut through the night and someone, another werewolf, attacked the Alpha. It ran and whoever had come to the rescue took off after it before Stiles could see a face or even shout 'thank you.' He didn't dwell on it, just ran to Scott's aid.

"Oh," Scott muttered, his expression still heavy with the memory. "Why has he come back now? Hasn't his sister been dead for like a year?"

God, help him.

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Do I look like I have those answers?"

Scott glared at him before giving up and shrugging, "Let's go to class."

Stiles didn't have any classes with Derek that day or even have another run-in with him and for that he was so, so grateful. He didn't know how he would face being in the same room as him for an entire class period. It had been hard enough seeing him for the short bit of time it had taken him to walk down a freaking hallway that morning.

When he got home, he flopped down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He sighed softly and closed his eyes, picturing the Derek he knew versus the one he saw today. He honestly did not see that one coming. Derek had always been cute with his bunny teeth and funny ears but what he saw today… A shiver ran through him.

He forced his eyes open when his mind began to wander to Derek finely sculpted… assets. Yeah, he was not letting himself go there.

He sat up and slid off his bed. He got on his hands and knees and reached under the bed. His hand slid over the dusty floor until he found what he was looking for. Pulling the shoe box out, he sat back on his heels and stared at it. He ran his fingers over the dust caked lid and frowned slightly. It had been so long, too long, since he had this out last.

He flipped off the lid and stared down at the old stuffed wolf that stared happily up at him from its bed of photos. He took Timber out of the box and held him tightly to his chest. He breathed in the scent of dust and faux fur. He picked up some of the photos and spread them out on the floor in front of him like playing cards.

Smiling, he picked up a photo of him and Derek at their preschool play. They both looked so ridiculous but happy in their little tree costumes. A breath of a laugh escaped him as he picked up the next photo.

A soft knock drew his attention to his dad who was standing in the doorway. "Hey, son. Why do you have those out?"

Stiles glanced down at the photos, smile slipping from his face. "Derek's back in Beacon Hills."

"Oh, really?" His father raised an eyebrow and smiled faintly. "How'd seeing him again go? Like you planned?"

Stiles shook his head, "He didn't even look at me."

"Can you… can you really blame him?"

"No."

He went to sleep that night with Timber wrapped in his arms and photos covering his floor.

It turned out he did have a class with Derek, English with Ms. Blake. They sat diagonally from each other, Derek behind him and two rows back with Boyd, Erica and Isaac all next to him. It would have been fine if Stiles had been able to not steal glances at him every few minutes. However, he couldn't bring himself to actually talk to Derek but communication was a two way street and Derek made absolutely no effort to talk to him either or even acknowledge his existence.

It was a month into Derek being back and three weeks to graduation when Stiles got caught openly staring at him. He had zoned out in class one day while staring at Derek as he gazed out the window and Derek's goons finally noticed. Erica and Isaac both grinned at him but it was Boyd who elbowed Derek, probably to tell him about the staring but before he even opened his mouth, Derek's eyes drifted away from the window and found Stiles'. Of course Stiles looked away as fast as he could, willing away the heat that was rising in his cheeks.

After that, Isaac and Erica both started grinning, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively at him any time he even glanced over.

The real problem happened less than a week later.

Ms. Blake was leaning over Derek's desk unnecessarily close to him as she pointed to something on the paper she had just handed back. Stiles had glanced over – it started out as just a glance, he swore – and caught the big, fat red A+ circled on the top of Derek's paper so her giving him any attention at all was totally unnecessary.

He knew Isaac and Erica were grinning at him but he couldn't help it this time. Anger was bubbling up in his chest and he could barely control the jealously that had been growing every time he saw Derek with their pretty teacher. It felt exactly like what happened with Ms. Kate was happening with Ms. Blake.

He was getting so sick of people taking Derek away from him. He belonged to Stiles… He paled a little at that thought. Okay, that was a little too far. Stiles couldn't let himself lay claim to someone like that, especially someone who he hadn't talked to for three years and who didn't even like him anymore.

He looked away from the two and stared down at his subject folder. There was a picture of him and Scott taped to the front of it but behind it he had hid a small picture of him and Derek. He had studied all of his photos of the two them and picked out his favorite to carry with him – to help him survive being at round the new Derek, actually.

He didn't have to pull it out to remember the looks of happiness they shared as they laid in the grass in Derek's backyard. He remembered little Cora had been pissed at Derek for two days after that because they had apparently been lying on a tiny patch of wild flowers she'd been watering as her own personal garden.

Stiles smile faded when he glanced back at Derek and Ms. Blake who was whispering in his ear. His vision shifted and instead of Ms. Blake his saw Ms. Kate.

_Hell, no._

"Mr. Stilinski?" Ms. Blake asked, finally looking up from Derek.

Stiles' attention snapped to her face instead of where her breasts where practically shoved in Derek's face. It took him a moment to notice it wasn't only her that was staring at him but Derek too… as well as the rest of the class. He blinked and looked around. He had gotten so angry he had slammed his fist down – that explained the ache in his clenched fists – on his desk and stood up, knocking his chair back.

He looked back at Derek who was watching him with one eyebrow raised. He shoved his embarrassment aside and marched over to Derek before he could over think his next course of action.

Derek's intense eyes were locked on his, a smug smile slowly unfolding on his stupid, perfect lips. Stiles glared back at him then surged forward and practically attacked that beautiful mouth. He felt Derek take in a sharp breath against his lips and tense before he tilted his head and slowly started to kiss him back.

Holy shit, he was kissing back!

Wolf-whistles and gasps of shock resonated throughout the classroom but Stiles didn't care. As he kissed Derek he thought back through their shared history, thought to all the times that could have led them to this sooner. He could have been kissing Derek Hale his whole life.

Any of those stolen glances, any of the soft reassuring touches, any of it could have resulted in him kissing the most perfect lips in the whole world. Yes, the whole world. Who needed Lydia's pretty, sticky lip glossy lips when they could have Derek's soft, warm, talented lips?

He mourned their lost time but tried like crazy to make up for it now using his lips, teeth and tongue. Derek made the softest, sexiest noise that Stiles had ever heard in the back of his throat when he invaded his mouth with his tongue. Derek tasted unbelievable.

He wanted _more_, so much _more_.

Several people cleared their throats as the kiss rapidly came to a boil, Stiles practically climbing on the desk to press his mouth farther into Derek who was partially out of his chair. Stiles grabbed a hold of Derek's thick, black hair and forced himself to break the kiss before he got really carried away.

He leaned back just enough to look at Derek's face. His eyes were still closed, lips parted ever so slightly as he tried to take back the oxygen Stiles had stolen from him but the best part was that he was leaning forward as if to chase after Stiles' mouth for another kiss.

Stiles felt himself swell with pride at the look of longing etched across Derek's beautiful face.

However, as soon as Derek opened his eyes that longing was replaced by an intense glare, the likes of which Stiles had never seen. His upper lip curled into a snarl, teeth slightly elongated to threatening points. He shot to his feet with a warning growl, eyes flashing a dangerous, blinding, Alpha red before he stormed out of the room, shoving both Ms. Blake and Stiles out of his way.

Stiles was in a daze when he heard three other chairs screech back. He looked away from the spot Derek had just evacuated and saw Erica, Boyd and Isaac all shooting him nasty glares as they ran after Derek.

"Mr. Stilinski, you have d– " Ms. Blake began.

"Yeah, yeah, detention." Stiles muttered, still trying to catch his breath.

As he headed back to his seat his mind pulled up a sea of questions all revolving around Derek's reaction. Why had Derek so willingly kissed him like that and then ran away afterward? Had it been some kind of mistake or accident on his part? Stiles wasn't sure how kissing someone back could be an accident though and if Derek had wanted it to stop he could have pulled way at any time instead of waiting for Stiles to do it. There was no reason for him to growl and flash him angry Alpha eyes…

Also, when had Derek become an Alpha in the first place? He could remember listening to Derek go on and on about how he was so happy that Laura was next in line to be Alpha and not him.

He took his seat but was in a daze for the rest of the class – the rest of the day, really. He had hoped he'd run into Derek in the halls at some point but he had no such luck.

The two weeks leading up to graduation was a blur of, well, absolutely nothing really. After finals were all taken care of all of his classes were either watching movies or teachers lecturing about what college would be like or getting old papers back. Stiles really didn't pay any attention, he just focused on keeping his eyes out for any trace of Derek in school or around town but he had disappeared. Derek wasn't attending class and he wasn't at graduation rehearsals and he wasn't anywhere in town.

It was like he left Beacon Hills all over again.

When Stiles finally gave up looking for him on his own and approached Erica and Isaac the morning of graduation to ask about Derek they turned him away with glowing golden glares. With a small sigh on his lips, he went to Boyd but the teen actually growled at him, baring fangs.

That afternoon, graduation went off without a hitch even though they still called out Derek's name. Three people's cheers rang out and Stiles looked up from where he was staring at the seat in front of him. Derek wasn't walking across the stage though, he wasn't anywhere in sight. After Erica, Isaac and Boyd's cheers died the announcer just moved on to the next name like it wasn't a big deal that Derek wasn't there.

As they got closer to his name, he started to worry that the three would boo at him but all he heard was the few cheers of his friends and his dad. He smiled as he finally walked up on stage, toward the principal to get his diploma and shake the man's out stretched hand. He glanced out at the crowd to see if he could spot his dad but his eyes were immediately drawn to the black leather jacket that rested on the broad shoulders of the teen in the doorway.

He froze in the middle of the stage when gorgeous, pale green eyes met his from across the huge, crowded gym. They stared at each other until Stiles heard the principal clear his throat. He looked at the man and held up one finger to tell him to wait a second. The principal stared at him incredulously but he was busy searching the doorway for Derek but he was no longer anywhere in sight.


End file.
